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LIBRARY 
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NO 


LIBRARY 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA, 


GrlK'T  OK 

\  X^ITv~Oo  J~~Y\,        4- 


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BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR  : 

SONNETS  OF  JOSE-MARIA  DE  HEREDIA 
RENDERED  INTO  ENGLISH,  Third 
Edition  ; 

MOODS  AND   OTHER  VERSES; 

INTO    THE    LIGHT,      Second    Edition. 


VISIONS  AND   OTHER  VERSE 


VISIONS 

AND      OTHER     VERSE 

BY   EDWARD    ROBESON    TAYLOR 


A.    M.    ROBERTSON 

SAN        FRANCISCO,       MCM1II 


Copyright  1903 

BY  EDWARD  ROBESON  TAYLOR 

Published  April  1903 


PRINTED    BY 

THI  STANLEY-TAYLOR  COMPAh 
SAN  FRANCISCO 


TO 

JAMES  ADDISON  QUARLES 

PROFESSOR  OF  PHILOSOPHY  IN  THE  WASHINGTON 

AND  LEE  UNIVERSITY 

AND    TO 

LLOYD  MIFFLIN 

AUTHOR  OF   "AT  THE  GATES  OF  SONG*'    ETC 
THIS    BOOK     IS    DEDICATED 


CONTENTS 

Visions        ......  i 

In  Time  of  May             .               .              .               .  .2 

A  Summer  Day        .....  3 

The  Days  of  Old                          .               .               .  -4 

The  Master              .....  5 

The  Dreams  of  Long  Ago            .               .               .  .6 

Fancy's  Children      .....  7 

Imagination        .               .               .               .               .  .11 

What  it  is  that  Man  Sees       .               .               .               .  12 

Can  This  be  Day            .               .              .               .  1 3 

The  Pity  of  it                          .               .               .               .  13 

Fears                    .                .                .                .                .  .14 

Mystery  of  Mysteries            .               .               .               .  14 

Wail                   .               .               .               .               .  .        I5 

Chastening                .               .               .               .               .  16 

Forward             .               .               .               .               .  1 7 

All  is  Best                 .              .               .               .               .  17 

Her  Resting  Place           .               .               .              .  .18 

Roses  for  Him                        .               .               .              .  19 

Song                  .               .               .               .               .  .21 

Work          ......  22 

The  Balance      .               .               .               .               .  .23 

Duty           .               .               .               .               .               .  23 

To  Milton         .               .               .               .               .  .24. 

Music         .              .              .              .              .              .  25 

The  Poet  .  ...       26 

To  William  Culien  Bryant  26 


[     vii     ] 


CONTENTS 

To  San  Francisco                           .               .               .  .28 

My  Sonnet  Prison                                 .              .               .  29 

Adversity           .               .               .               .               .  -3° 

Under  an  Oak          .               .               .               .               .  31 

Mother's  Love                .              .              .              .  32 

Christmas  Hymn     .               .               .              .               .  33 

Question            .              .              .              .              .  -35 

Faith           .                             ....  36 

Work  and  Service            .              .               .               .  36 

Unkissed     ......  36 

Unaccomplished              .              .              .              .  -37 

Charles  Lamb           .               .               .               .               .  38 

The  Record      .              .              .              .              .  -39 

In  a  Church  .  .  .  .  .40 

Mystery             .               .               .               .               .  .41 

Man's  Heritage        .....  42 

Out  of  the  Shadow        .              .              .              .  -43 

Poe 44 

To  Walt  Whitman         .              .              .              .  .45 

Home         ......  46 

After  an  Evening  with  Longfellow              .               .  -47 

To  Whittier             .....  48 

Poetic  Art         .              .              .              .              .  -5° 

Insight        ......  50 

Reverie              .              .              .              .              .  51 

To  a  Soiled  and  Broken  Volume  of  Bayard  Taylor's  Poems       52 

Defiance            .              .              .              .              .  -53 

Endeavor                   .               .               .               .               .  54 

To  Keats           .              .              .              .  •           .  .56 

[      viii      ] 


CONTENTS 

To  Shelley                .....  57 

Refuge               .               .               .               .               .  -57 

At  the  Presidio  of  San  Francisco          .               .               .  58 

Night                 ....  -59 

Transmutation          .....  60 

Tennyson's  Good  Fortune            .               .               .  .60 

In  November            .               .               .               .               .  62 

Theseus  and  Ariadne       .               .               .               .  -63 

Ulysses  and  Calypso               ....  64 

Narcissus           .               .               .               .               .  -65 

Orestes        ......  66 

To  Goethe        .              .              .              .              .  .67 

Arria           ......  69 

Perpetua             .               .               .               .               .  -7° 

Dante  and  Beatrice                 .               .               .               .  71 

Edelweiss          .              .               .              .               .  72 

To  Balzac                 .....  73 

Near  Midnight  of  December,  1899           .               .  .74 

On  Receiving  a  Bunch  of  Holy  Grass              .               .  75 

Voices                .               .               .               .               .  -76 

Five  Sonnets  on  some  Pictures  painted  by  William  Keith  :  77 

I     Morning       .               .               .               .  -79 

II      By  the  Roadside                 ...  80 

III  Into  the  Mystery        .               .               .  .81 

IV  Memories             .               .               .               .  82 
V     The  Unceasing  Round               .               .  83 

Browning                   .               .               .               .               .  84 

To  the  Sierras                  .               .               .               .  -85 

Proof  of  God  86 


CONTENTS 


To  the  Sonnet 

The  Last  Journey 

Now 

With  the  Lark 

With  the  Eagle 

Attainment 

Concentration 

Sufficiency 

Endure  thou  Faltering  Soul 

Consecration 

Compensation 

Beatitude    . 

My  Muse 

Scorn  not  the  Singer 

Dream 

Whither 


8? 
88 

93 
94 
95 
96 

97 
98 

99 
100 

101 

102 

103 
104 
105 
1 06 


NOTE. —  Some  of  the  pieces  contained  in  this  book  were  published 
in  "Moods  and  Other  Verses"  (now  out  of  print),  others  were 
printed  for  private  circulation,  "Memories"  was  published  in  the 
Impressions  Quarterly,  "Compensation"  and  "Into  the  Mystery" 
in  the  San  Francisco  Evening  Post,  while  all  the  others  now  appear 
in  print  for  the  first  time.  Those  heretofore  printed  have  been 
carefully  revised  with  especial  reference  to  their  insertion  in  this 
volume. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 
VISIONS 

|  OPE  drew  me  on  to  peaks  that  glittered 

bright 
With  lovelier  tints  than  rainbows  ever 

knew, 
While  round  my  loitering   feet  rare  blossoms 

grew, 

Steeped  in  the  glories  of  immatchless  light. 
In  golden  opulence  the  days  were  dight, 

With  every  sky  cloud-free,  save  when  there  flew 
Great  flocks  of  dreams  that  veiled  the  pulsing 

blue 

Only  to  thrill  me  with  a  new  delight. 
Ah,  this  was  in  the  time  so  long  ago, 
I  marvel  much  if  it  be  truly  so  — 
Those  memory-teeming,   passion-hearted  years. 
My  life's  once  blazing  fires  are  burning  low, 

And  in  my  cheek  regret's  unfathomed  tears 
Have  worn  the  channels  age  alone  can  know. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


IN  TIME  OF  MAY 

ITHIN  thy  silvern  bars,  oh,  hold  me  fast, 
My  Sonnet;  —  hold  me  safely,  that  my 

dream 
Of  long-departed  blooms  on  men  may 

beam 

In  all  thy  artistry  of  splendor  cast. 
To  heart-enchanting  music  of  the  Past 

Again  I  loiter  by  the  woodland  stream, 
Till  on  its  memory-haunted  banks  I  deem 
Myself  with  joys  in  fairy  legion  massed. 
Once  more  I  seek  the  walnut's  easeful  shade 

To  lie  outstretched  in  taskless  freedom  there, 
As  all  the  ravishments  of  May  are  mine; 
Once  more  with  her  that  in  the  grave  was  laid 
Long,  long  ago,  I  breathe  the  fragrant  air, 
And  pluck  at  her  fond  wish  the  columbine. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

A  SUMMER  DAY 

HAT    treasure    trove    the    languorous 

summer  hours 
When   all  their  golden  moments  were 

our  own; 
Beneath   some  tree's   soft   shade   to   drowseful 

drone, 

And  build  in  Dreamland  fairy-peopled  towers ! 
The  birds'  are  dozing  in  their  leafy  bowers 

Save  the  woodpecker  tapping  far  and  lone, 
While  dauntless  bumble-bees  make  murmurous 

moan 

Among  the  blossoms  of  the  drooping  flowers. 
The  sun  sinks  down  in  clouds  that  seem  his  pyre; 
And  as  the  dusk  is  edging  into  dark, 
And  Hesperus  faintly  trembles  into  fire, 
The  lightning  bug  floats  by  —  a  glowing  spark,- 
While  then  we  hear — ah,  now  I  hear  it  still  — 
The  plaintive  calling  of  the  whippoorwill. 


[     3     ] 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

THE   DAYS   OF   OLD 

|ERE  let  me  put  my  daily  burden  by, 
To  live  again  one  consecrated  hour, 
While  sceptred  Memory  with  increasing 

power 

Commands  obedient  pageant  for  mine  eye: 
Ah,  what  procession  floats  beneath  my  sky, 

Of  long-evanished  joys  in  spring-time  flower, 
When  boundless  realms  were  youth's  demanded 

dower, 

And  all  its  troubles  but  a  tear  or  sigh! 
And  she  the  fairest  of  the  ghostly  throng, 
Who  so  entreats  me  with  celestial  gaze, 
Leaps  in  my  heart  and  trembles  in  my  song; 
O  purple-gloried,   haunting,   hallowed  days, 

When  she  and   I   walked  Love's  enrapturing 

ways  — 
She  that  in  Death's  cold  arms  has  lain  so  long! 


[     4     ] 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

THE   MASTER 

ROM   out  his  noble  face  there  looked 

an  eye 

Bespeaking  mastery; — ah,  I  see  him  now 
With  gathered  thunders  on  his  clouded 

brow 
Whence  lightnings  leaped  that  none  would  dare 

defy. 
Yet  kind  and  patient  he,  nor  ceased  to  try 

The  veriest  dunce  with  learning  to  endow; 
But  work  half-done  he  never  would  allow, 
Nor  could  he  compromise  with  any  lie. 
And  sweet  to  him  the  wine  of  joysome  play 

That  sent  the  blood  all  tingling  through  the 

veins 

To  drive  the  harassment  of  tasks  away; 
And  now  his  years  are  done,  there  still  remains 
Such  love  for  what  he  gave  me  of  my  gains, 
It  warms  my  heart  as  if  new-born  to-day./ 


[     5     ] 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

THE    DREAMS   OF   LONG   AGO 

HESE  dreams  of  mine  refuse  to  let  me 


And  hold  me  fast  with  such  entreating 

face, 

With  such  insistent  fondness  of  embrace, 
That  once  again  I  range  the  Long  Ago; 

Nor  at  this  moment  would  I  care  to  know 

The  Present's  most  rememberable  grace; 
My  feet  are  bounding  in  the  woodland  race, 
And  everywhere  Hope's  ringing  trumpets  blow. 

The  unbounded  forest  and  its  streams  are  oursv 

Its  luscious  fruits  and  nuts,  its  beauteous  flowers, 
With  trees  that  lift  their  splendors  to  the  sky; 

While  rare,  melodious  birds  such  strains  prolong 
That  all  the  universe  is  filled  with  song,- 
And  nought  that  breathes  seems  ever  born  to  die. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

FANCY'S    CHILDREN 

HERE  do  Fancy's  children  nest, 
Breeding  thoughts1  we  love  the 
best?— 

In  the  leaves  with  freshness  gay 
When  the  Spring  is  on  her  way, 
Sweetly  breathing  balm  and  song 
As  she  lightly  skips  along; 
In  the  heart  of  daffodils 
Beating  as  some  fairy  wills; 
Honeysuckle  giving  sweets 
To  the  trellis  it  entreats; 
Poppies  that  for  sunbeams  hold 
Most  appealing  cups  of  gold; 
Pansies  whose  irradiant  eyes 
Watch  the  jasmine's  envied  vine 
Near  the  maiden's  casement  twine; 
Dandelion's  stars  that  glow 
In  the  meadow's  emerald  skies; 
Lilacs  of  the  long  ago, 
Tremulous  with  memory's  sighs; 
Roses  grand  in  gorgeous  show, 
Marguerites  that  lovers  know, 
And  in  every  kindred  one 

C     7     ] 


FANCY'S    CHILDREN 

Drinking  joys  of  dew  and  sun; 
Sooth,  in  least  that  decks  the  ground 
Fancy's*  children  may  be  found. 
In  the  merryhearted  stream 
Where  some  naiads  rest  in  dream, 
While  the  crystal  waters  make 
Drowseful  music  lest  they  wake; 
In  the  peaceful  pools  that  lie 
Where  the  umbrage  veils  the  sky, 
And  no  voice  on  us  may  call 
Save  the  beat  of  waterfall; 
And  in  nook  of  secret  dell 
Where  an  oread  from  her  cell 
Deeply  hid  is  wont  to  spy 
Lovers'  raptures  throbbing  nigh; 
Here  with  all  that's  beauteous  crowned 
Fancy's  children  may  be  found. 
In  the  dryad-haunted  tree 
With  its  branches  spreading  free, 
Whose  sequestered,  cooling  shade 
Only  dreams  and  we  invade; 
And  in  cloud  of  snowy  fleece 
Floating  swanlike  overhead 
On  its  azure  sea  of  peace, 
By  the  zephyrs  gently  sped; 

C     8     ] 


FANCY'S    CHILDREN 

Ah,  in  this  enchanted  ground 

Fancy's  children  may  be  found. 

In  the  horses  of  the  surge 

Rearing  high  upon  its  verge, 

So  to  leap  upon  the  shore 

With  impetuous,  deafening  roar, 

While  from  out  their  mouths  the  spume 

Seethes  and  hisses  as  it  flies; 

In  the  ships  that  faintly  loom 

Under  rainbow-tinted  skies, 

Sailing  safe  on  sapphire  seas 

To  the  golden  port  of  Ease, 

There  unlading  costly  bales 

For  the  hope  that  never  fails; 

Ah,  in  these  domains  renowned 

Fancy's  children  may  be  found. 

In  the  dawn's  wide-opening  rose 

Which  in  sudden  beauty  blows 

On  the  east's  enraptured  breast, 

As  it  beams  upon  the  bed 

Where  some  lady's  lovely  head, 

Filled  with  him  she  loves  the  best, 

Gently  stirs  within  its  nest; 

In  the  visions  flitting  by 

When  the  day  is  fain  to  lie, 

[     9     ] 


FANCY'S    CHILDREN 

Wearied  out,  in  final  rest, 
On  the  bosom  of  the  west; 
In  the  stars  that  bless  the  night 
With  magnificence  of  light, 
As  the  moon,  like  any  ghost, 
Glides  amid  their  countless  host, 
Weaving  with  her  silvery  beams 
Love's  eternal,  magic  dreams; 
Ah,  in  this  capacious  bound 
Fancy's  children  may  be  found. 
In  the  memories  floating  up 
From  the  long-evanished  time, 
When  with  joy  in  every  cup 
All  the  moments  rang  in  chime, 
As  with  her,  death  would  not  spare, 
Hand  in  hand  we  silent  strayed 
In  the  perfume-laden  air, 
Till  a  glory  round  us  played, 
And  the  beauty  of  her  eyes, 
Newly  lit  with  love's  surprise, 
Told  the  story  that  still  lies 
In  the  heart  where,  wet  with  tears, 
It  shall  grieve  through  all  the  years; 
In  the  Garden  of  Delight 
Boyhood's  feet  alone  can  know, 

[     10     ] 


FANCY'S    CHILDREN 


Where  all  wonders  fill  the  sight, 
And  all  joysome  blossoms  grow; 
Sooth,  where  fairies  love  to  be 
Fancy's  children  you  may  see; 
But  the  maiden's  guileless  breast 
Is  by  them  beloved  the  best, 
Where  to  every  rapturing  sound 
Are  they  alway  to  be  found. 


IMAGINATION 

How  insignificantly  small  we  seem; 

Yet  marvellous  times  there  are, 
When  every  sense  in  sublimated  dream 

Wings  on  from  star  to  star;  — 
Ah,  then  all  principalities  are  ours, 
And  we,  immortals  with  Herculean  powers. 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 

WHAT   IT   IS   THAT    MAN   SEES 

HAT  dost  thou  see  when  without  thee 
thou  lookest,  O  all-searching  Man  ? 
Life,  ever  life,  amid  changes  by  multi 
plex  rhythms  controlled — 
Rhythms    that    beat    without    end    in    immensity's 

vastness  of  space, 

Mingling   and  blending   in   chorus   to   sing   of  the 
Order  Divine. 

What  dost  thou  see  when  within  thee,  thou  lookest, 

O  all-searching  Man  ? 
Thee  as   a   spirit   and   atom  of  all  the  mysterious 

whole ; 
Giving  as  well  as  receiving,   bound  to  the  infinite 

past, 
Made    by    and    making    thy    future    that    stretches 

eternally  on. 


[       12       1 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 

CAN  THIS   BE   DAY? 

AN  this  be  day  ?      The  stars  have  fled ; 
Dawn's  banners  brighten  overhead; 
The  wagons  roll  along  the  street, 
And  men  go  by  with  hastening  feet;  — 
Ah,  yes,  it  must  be  day. 

But  come  and  see  where  cold  she  lies, 
Death's  fingers  on  her  once-bright  eyes ; 
With  pallid  lips  that  cannot  stir; 
The  aching  mother  bent  o'er  her;  — 
Ah,  no,  'tis  night,  not  day. 


THE  PITY  OF  IT 


OW  bloomed  round  her  the  flowers  of 

nuturing  care, 
How  breathed  on  her  Home's  kindliest 

summer-air, 

How  softly  smooth  her  daily  paths  were  made, 
From  that  sweet  moment  Life  first  gave  her  breath 
Until  that  bitter  time  her  dear  head  laid 
Its  lilied  beauty  in  the  lap  of  Death ! 

[  13  ] 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

FEARS 

Y  heart  was  kept  with  fear  astir 
Lest  lightest  harm  might  come  to 

her; 
My  lips  could  not  have  dared  to 

speak 
One  word  to  pale  her  bloomy  cheek. 

But  now  my  fears  are  gathered  up 
In  grief's  exhaustless  wormwood-cup, 
And  though  I  spoke  in  loudest  tone 
Her  cheek  no  paler  hue  could  own. 


MYSTERY  OF  MYSTERIES 

In  mystery's  face  I  could  but  peer 
When  she  my  heart  of  heart  did  fill, 
And  yet  her  pulseless  beauty  here 
Proclaims  a  mystery  greater  still. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

WAIL 

ROM  out  a  wood  where  waters  ran 
As  only  joyful  waters  can, 
Where    flower    and    tree    with 
rapture  heard 

The  ecstasy  of  many  a  bird, 

And  in  the  air  was  such  a  lull 

That  everything  of  peace  seemed  full, 

I  sudden  came  upon  a  cave 

With  brooding  gloom  as  of  the  grave, 

And  peering  in  the  darksome  nave, 

Awe-struck  I  saw  upon  a  stone 

A  mother  bowed  in  grief  alone. 


[  15  1 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 

CHASTENING 

WOMAN,  great  of  form  and  face, 
Who  seemed  to  be  of  Sorrow's  race, 
Led  me  away  from  sun-bright  air, 
And  from  the  trees  and  blossoms 

fair, 

To  lonely  depth  of  solemn  wood 
Where  but  the  sombre  cypress  stood. 

She  gently  breathed  a  wordless  prayer, 
Then  left  me  strangely  dreaming  there; 
And  when  I  waked,  a  newer  grace 
Was  round  me  as  with  love's  embrace, 
And  forth  I  went  in  heartened  mood 
Beneath  the  spell  of  chastening's  good. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER     VERSE 


FORWARD 


HAT  note  is  this?  which  sweeps 


Along  the  mountain  steeps, 
Where  neither  grass  nor  tree 
Nor  verdured  thing  can  be  ? 


'Tis  Life's  great  trumpet  blown 
By  lips  that  heroes  own : 
'The  death-strewn  Past  is  gone  — 
The  Present's  yours;  —  march  on! 


ALL  IS  BEST 

The  world  overflows  its  cup  of  woe, 
Each  heart  has  felt  the  knife  of  pain, 
But  I  would  have  my  soul  to  know 
That  all  is  best,  that  God  doth  reign. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

HER  RESTING  PLACE 

HE   rests  not  where  the  bending 

flowers 

Can  spill  their  perfumes  over  her, 
But  in  the  cells  of  loveliest  flowers 
Her  fleshly  atoms  once  more  stir, 
To  give  those  blooms  the  brightest  hue 
That  e'er  before  their  petals  knew, 
While  in  the  urn  her  ashes  lie 
White  as  her  soul  that  cannot  die. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

ROSES  FOR  HIM 

You  that  loved  him,  gather  here 
Round  his  bier. 

Let  the  roses  heaping  rest 
On  his  breast. 

In  his1  heart  their  sweets  were  hived 
While  he  lived, 

And  he  might  unquiet  be 
If  that  we 

Did  not  give  his  bed  of  death 
Their  dear  breath. 

Mid  their  fragrance  let  us  say, 
As  we  pray, 

How  he  nursed  a  patient  mood 
Filled  with  good  — 


ROSES     FOR     HIM 

Good  that  flowed  without  an  end 
To  his  friend; 

How,  whatever  stress  might  be, 
Equal  he ; 

How  with  every  breath  he  drew 
He  was  true; 

How  he  charmed  us  with  a  tone 
All  his  own, 

Stingless  wit  and  ready  sense 
Flowing  thence; 

How  he  walked  affection's  ways 
All  his  days; 

And  how  Beauty's  conquering  art 
Held  his  heart, 

Till  he  seemed  her  very  child 
Undefiled. 


ROSES     FOR     HIM 

Gather  then  with  roses  here 
Round  his  bier, 

And  in  heaps  upon  his  breast 
Let  them  rest. 


SONG 

LWAYS  be  the  same,  sweetheart, 
Or  we  must  forever  part; 
Smiles     to-day     and     frowns     to 
morrow 

Can  but  bring  us  anxious  sorrow; 
Be  the  same  as  now  thou  art, 
And  we  shall  not,  cannot,  part. 

Do  I  doubt  thee? — never!   never! — 
Love  shall  bind  us  fast  forever; 
In  thy  softly-folding  arms 
Life  for  me  can  have  no  harms; 
Pillowed  on  thy  fragrant  breast, 
Come  what  may  I  must  be  blest. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


WORK 

]O  age-worn  palace  veiled  with  vine  and 

tree 

I  listless  came  one  summer  afternoon, 
_    A  self-invited  guest  who  craved  the  boon 
Of  peaceful  idlesse  in  that  privacy; 
And  there  I  saw,  as  swung  the  doors  for  me, 

Some  of  the  inmates  lounge  as  half  in  swoon, 
While  others  gaped  and  yawned,  tried  trivial 

tune, 

Turned  a  few  leaves,  then  wandered  aimlessly. 
And  when  Ennui,  the  jewelled  queen  of  these, 

Rose  languid  from  her  couch  of  poppied  ease, 
With  greeting  such  as  indolence  could  spare, 
I  fled  aghast,  the  humblest  tool  to  seize, 

And  as  its  strokes  with  music  filled  the  air, 
Peace  spread  her  wings  in  holy  blessing  there. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

THE  BALANCE 

OOK  not  on  erring  Man  as  one  who  teems 
With   ills   that   slay  him:    his   etherial 

thought, 
Thrilled      by      imagination's      glorious 

dreams, 

Rears  deathless  fanes  in  gold  and  purple  wrought; 
His  science  tests  and  probes  all  things  that  are, 
Piles  fact  on  fact,  and  in  its  thirst  to  know 
Dares  lay  its  finger  on  the  farthest  star; 
Beneath  his  hand,  its  purest  wealth  to  show, 
All  forms  of  beauty  exquisitely  grow; 
His  wand  of  music  bids  all  raptures  rise, 
Tears,  and  the  passioned  heart's  supremest  cries, 
While  Love's  own  fount  wells  joyous  in  his  breast 
With  crystal  stream  to  give  the  weaned  rest. 


DUTY 

Duty  is  all  in  all;  find  it  and  then 

Strike  for  thine  own  and  for  the  souls  of  men, 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

TO  MILTON 

HOU    star-crowned,    peerless    Milton, 

thine  to  know 
The  moans  and  thunders  of  the  surging 

seas; 

The  tinkling  laugh  of  rippling  rills;   the  trees' 
Soft  murmurs  multitudinous;  and  so 
Thy  deeply-wrought  imaginations  flow 

With  long-drawn  roll  of  mighty  harmonies, 
As  with  dulcifluous,  tripping  melodies, 
In  Beauty's  unextinguishable  glow. 
Thou  art  the  starry  wonder  of  thy  time  — 
The  favored  child  of  every  lofty  lore, 
And  in  thy  soul,  as  in  thy  verse,  sublime. 
Thou  gavest  England,  when  she  needed  sore 

Her  strongest  and  her  best,  one  man  unique 
Who  grandly  blended  Puritan  with  Greek. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

MUSIC 

HE    murmurous    monotone    of    waving 

grain 
When  winds  are  gently  winging  down 

the  vale; 

The  storm-voiced  billows  drowning  men  bewail ; 
The  pattering  stroke  of  softly- falling  rain; 
The  sighing  leaves  which  bend  to  every  tale 

The  breezes'  tell;    the  songster's  lilting  strain, 
From  feeblest  note  of  all  the  joyful  tram 
To  rapturous  burst  of  peerless  nightingale.;  — 
What  are  all  these,  and  all  that  human  ear 

In  sweetest  concord  from  their  kin  can  hear, 
But  hints  of  deeper  rhythms  as  yet  unheard; 
That  in  the  soul  ineffable  of  things- 

An  ordered  music,  by  the  eternal  word, 
Throughout  the  vast  of  space  divinely  sings. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

THE  POET 

He  crushed  his  heart  for  wine  of  song 
The  sordid  souls  of  men  to  glad; 
But  by  him  passed  the  scoffing  throng, 
Nor  dreamed  he  was  divinely  mad. 

TO  WILLIAM  CULLEN  BRYANT 

HAT  gift  of  song  was  thine !  —  for  in 

thy  great 

Miltonic  cadences  the  mighty  heart 
Of  nature  beats,  anon  with  joy  serene, 
Anon  with  melancholy  sad  as  leaves 
By  Autumn  kissed,  but  alway  with  a  hope 
That  sings  its  music  to  the  darkest  hour. 
With  thee  we  lose  ourselves  within  the  wood, 
And  make  the  tree  our  brother;   every  plant, 
That  spreads  its  modest  beauties  to  the  sun, 
Or  nestles  in  the  shade,  is  then  our  kin, 
And  we  with  them  on  nature's  kindly  breast 
In  silence  hearken  to  the  voice  divine. 
The  flowers  of  the  field  were  thy  dear  friends, 

[  26  ] 


TO  WILLIAM  CULLEN  BRYANT 

Who  spake  their  message  to  thee  as  to  one 

They  trusted;   and  in  swelling,  golden  note 

Of  sounding  rhythm  thou  gavest  it  to  us, 

To  keep  enshrined  within  the  heart  of  love. 

All  things  that  walk  or  fly  could  set  thy  soul 

To  music's  beat,  as  did  that  waterfowl 

Which  caught  thine  eye,  when  in  the  vast 

Of  space's  unimaginable  waste, 

Alone,  yet  confident,  it  took  its  way, 

And  where,  through  thee,  transfigured  and  sublime, 

It  keeps  forever  an  unwearied  wing. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

TO  SAN  FRANCISCO 


CITY  of  our  life  and  hope, 

That  sittest  by  this  westmost  sea, 

Thy  lovers  pray  thy  widest  scope, 
And  deepest  in  the  yet  to  be. 


May  Learning's  temples  rear  their  towers 

Above  thy  unpolluted  ways, 
And  all  the  strength  of  all  thy  powers, 

Build  only  what  good  men  can  praise. 

May  stranger  ships  bring  costly  bales 
From  every  near  and  distant  land, 

And  in  return  thy  winged  sails 

By  prospering  winds  be  ever  fanned. 

May  arts  and  crafts  with  newer  life, 
And  greater,  sing  their  highest  notes, 

While  over  all  with  glory  rife 
The  flag  of  peace  divinely  floats. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


MY   SONNET   PRISON 

|ULL  oftentimes  my   friends  have  said 

to  me: 
u  Give  o'er  the  sonnet,  since  thou  dost 

but  lie 

At  leaden  length  beneath  its  narrow  sky  — 
A  slave  imprisoned  when  thou  mightst  be  free. 
Though  true  it  is  the  masters  loved  by  thee 

Have  in  that  cage  sung  strains  that  cannot  die, 
Yet  they  were  those  who  could  all  bonds  defy, 
And  soar  at  will  in  Art's  immensity." 
Then  I  to  them  :    "  No  eagle's  wings  are  mine, 
That  tempt  the  vastness  of  immortal  song, 
To  rest  at  last  on  fame-encrowned  years. 
Leave  me  my  prison  bars,  to  me  divine, 

Where  with  the  Muse  I  have  communed  so  long, 
And  on  her  breast  have  shed  memorial  tears." 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


ADVERSITY 

|  HEN  glad  Fortuna,  as  a  friend  to  thee, 
Her  more  than  liberal  spoils  before  thee 

brings, 
Beware    the    serpent,    slyly   hid,    which 

stings 

The  soul  with  poison  ®f  Prosperity. 
Thou  never  mayst  revealing  visions  see, 

Nor  mount  with  seraphs  on  immortal  wings, 
Unless  within  thy  deepest  being  springs 
Some  tear-fed  fountain  of  Adversity. 
The  steel  that  Florence  drove  in  Dante's  heart 
He  fashioned  to  a  lyre,  whereon  with  ease 
He  deathless  rose  above  the  hells1  of  hate; 
And  when  life-wearied  Milton  sat  apart, 

Lonely  and  blind,  he  swept  those  organ  keys 
Whose  tones  from  age  to  age  reverberate. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


UNDER   AN   OAK 

HE  cloudless  azure  stretches  overhead; 
Afar  the  haze-veiled  mountains  tranquil 

lie; 
The  breeze-kissed  leaves  are  dancing  in 

the  sky 

As  if  by  sprites  of  every  joyance  led; 
The  golden  hay  in  many  a  mound  is  spread, 
To  ripen  in  the  sun's  all-glorious  eye; 
And  rapture-hearted  birds  are  twittering  nigh 
The  oak  where  dreams  and  I  have  made  our  bed. 
Yet  here  in  bristling  ranks  the  thistle  stands, 

With  winged  seeds  in  millions  in  its  hands, 
While  now  I  mark  a  great  hawk  wheeling  low; 
And  as  I  breathe  this  paradisal  air, 

My  friend  can  but  the  pangs  of  illness  know  — 
Bereft  of  joys  that  once  he  thrilled  to  share. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

MOTHER'S  LOVE 


S  through  the  sweets  of  verse  our  talk  did 
A 
•^  run. 


My  friend  said,  "  Cage  me  in  thy  sonnet, 

pray, 
A  thought  whose  song  shall  tempt  the  Muse  to 

say, 

Ah,  this,  indeed,  is  an  immortal  one !  " 
Is  it,"  I  asked,  "  a  maid's  fond  heart  undone? 
Or  some  far  lesser  grief?    Or  does  the  way 
To  fairest  memories  open  to  thee?  " — "  Nay, 
'Tis    Mother's    Love  —  flame-hearted    as    the 


sun."- 


"Thou  seekest  what  thou  knowest  is  in  vain, 
Although  before  me  were  a  Dante's  pen, 
Heart's  blood  for  ink,  with  strength  to  make 
them  mine, 

And  though  my  sonnet  bars  their  bounds  should  strain 
Beyond  imagination's  farthest  ken 
Till  bathed  in  all  the  ecstasies  divine." 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

CHRISTMAS  HYMN 


CHRIST,  on  this  thy  natal  day, 
As  oft  before,  we  fain  would  pray; 
And  as  the  bells  in  laud  of  thee 
Ring  joyous  over  land  and  sea, 

With  every  feeling  sounding  back 

Along  our  lives'  eventful  track 

That  led  from  thee,  ah,  let  us  dare 

To  fill  our  starving  souls  with  prayer. 

Give  us  the  passion-conquering  might 

In  every  stress  to  davthe  right; 

And  should  we  fall,  as  like  we  may, 

Help  us  to  front  another  day. 

Add  strengthening  light  to  our  weak  eyes 

For  them  to  view  fresh  splendors  rise, 

And  see  that  at  our  very  feet 

The  richest  things  may  lie  complete. 

Oh,  lift  us  in  thy  blessed  arms 

Above  the  fear  of  loud  alarms 

To  where  the  flower  of  courage  grows 

On  hope-crowned  heights  that  duty  knows, 

[      33      1 


CHRISTMAS    HYMN 

Till  thrilled  with  that  divinest  air, 
No  longer  dreaming  of  despair, 
We  shall  go  on  from  day  to  day 
Despite  all  lions  in  our  way. 

Oh,  give  to  us  such  spirit-needs 
As  teach  the  scorn  of  hates  and  greeds, 
And  light  within  our  breast  the  fires 
Of  wisdom-hearted,  high  desires; 
Of  love  for  all  without  constraint, 
Of  love  that  dares  not  halt  nor  faint, 
Though  it  lead  us,  as  it  led  thee, 
Along  the  road  to  Calvary. 

May  we  with  thee  so  closely  live 
As  that  we  freely  can  forgive, 
Although  our  heart  be  torn  by  one 
The  best  beloved  beneath  the  sun, 
And  though  the  friendship  built  of  old 
•With  rarest  gems  and  purest  gold 
Be  prostrate  laid,  and  we  remain 
In  irremediable  pain. 


[     34     ] 


C  HRISTMAS    HYMN 

O  Christ,  on  this  thy  holiest  day, 
Accept  our  homage  as  we  pray; 
Upon  us  pour  thy  healing  balm, 
Till  every  pulse,  serenely  calm, 
And  tuned  to  love,  undaunted  beats 
With  harmony's  ambrosial  sweets, 
While  centred  in  our  souls  increase 
The  priceless  treasures  of  thy  peace. 

QUESTION 

Outside,  the  rain  is  dreary, 
Inside,  my  heart  is  weary, 
Outside,  the  winds  are  sighing, 
Inside,  my  hopes  are  dying;  — 
O  Earth,  where  is  thy  beauty? 
O  Soul,  where  is  thy  duty? 


[     35     1 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

FAITH 

Though  man  be  lost  in  maze  of  mystery's  land, 
'Tis  his  to  feel  if  not  to  understand, 
And  hear  the  heartening  voice  that  ever  sings 
Of  all  the  deep  divinity  of  things. 

WORK  AND  SERVICE 

Through  work  and  service  thou  mayst  see 
The  inmost  heart  of  liberty, 
And  make  thy  sum  of  days  to  be 
One  fused  organic  unity. 

UNKISSED 

O  lips  that  moan  unkissed 

Beneath  Love's  luring  sky, 
What  raptures  you  have  missed, 

What  pangs  have  passed  you  by ! 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

UNACCOMPLISHED 

i    parcelled    off    from    Beauty's    vast 

demesne 

One  little  spot  that  seemed  so  very  fair, 
ft  He  thought  his  soul  might  rest  securely 

there, 

Triumphant  in  a  spring  of  fadeless  green; 
And  in  the  distance  looming  clear  were  seen 

Great  towers  that  wooed  such  empyreal  air, 
They  mocked  alike  man's  ravage  and  his  care, 
Beaming  like  stars  eternally  serene. 
Then  came  the  Muse  and  whispered  in  his  ear 
Seductive  sweetnesses  that  so  beguiled, 
He  dared  a  tower  of  his  own  to  rear; 
But  scarce  one  dawn  beheld  it,  when  a  wild 

Wind  smote  it,  and  in  night  that  knew  no  gleam 
It  crashed  to  fragments1  as  a  shattered  dream. 


[     37     ] 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


TO  CHARLES  LAMB 

H,  many  a  year  has  fled,   dear  Lamb, 

since  thou 

Tasted  the  bitter  and  the  sweet  of  death, 
But  Love  thy  name  hath  nurtured  so, 

that  now, 

As  scarce  before,  it  greenly  flourisheth. 
Thou  hadst  sincerity  without  a  flaw, 
And  lovedst  all  so  deeply  and  so  true, 
Thou  to  the  beggar  and  the  sweep  couldst  draw, 
And  see  their  hearts  their  rags  and  tatters  through. 
Thou  hadst  no  theories  for  wayward  man, 
Nor  sought  to  teach  some  lesson  to  thy  kind, 
But  livedst  patiently  thy  little  span, 
To  hopeless  ills  courageously  resigned. 

Thy  writings  leave  us  debtors  evermore, 

But  what  thou  wast  makes  still  the  richer  store. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

THE   RECORD 

HEN  thy  stilled  hands  lie  folded  on  thy 

breast, 
As   some  day  they  will  be   at   death's 

desire, 

What  praise  could  wake  the  silence  of  thy  rest, 
What  censure  rouse  thy  indignation's  fire? 
O  moment  incommunicably  dread! 
For  then  how  mend  life's  slightest  broken  thread, 
Or  kiss  to  warmth  the  love  by  thee  betrayed, 
Or  slay  the  least  of  those  thy  passions  bred, 
Or  haste  with  joy  some  fallen  one  to  aid, 
And  set  the  crown  of  hope  upon  his  head? 

What's  done  is  done,  on  lines  thyself  hast  laid; 
Nor  canst  thou  scape  the  forfeit  to  be  paid: 
No  deed  of  thine  can  hope  for  funeral  pyre, 
Nor  can  Time's  flood  with  still  increasing  ire 
Erase  one  record  thou  hast  ever  made. 
From  man's  memorial  tablets  it  may  fade; 
But  on  the  book  the  Eternal  Justice  keeps, 
With  omnipresent  eye  that  never  sleeps, 
'Twill  be  emblazoned  through  unending  years 
Though  grieved  contrition  shed  a  sea  of  tears. 

[     39     ] 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 


IN  A  CHURCH 


|ILE-ROOFED  and  low  it  meekly 

stands, 

The  loving  work  of  loving  hands, 
And    views,    from    out    its    cross- 

crowned  tower, 
Its  garden  plot  of  tree  and  flower. 

Within,  madrofia  trees,  love-slain, 
With  joy  renewed  live  once  again, 
To  hold,  in  still  unwearied  arms, 
The  naked  ceiling's  modest  charms. 

A  holy  hush  is  in  the  air, 
As  though  the  spirit's  essence  there 
Had  been  distilled  and  entered  all 
That  lay  within  the  sacred  wall. 

The  song  is  sung,  the  prayer  is  said, 
The  Book,  and  sermon  thence,  are  read, 
While  from  the  wings  of  Peace  outspread 
The  balm  of  blessedness  is  shed. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


MYSTERY 

HAT   notes   of   mystery   in    our   being 

sound  !  — 

The  unimaginable  depths  of  space; 
The  multitudinous  worlds  in  pauseless 

race 

To  distant  goals  beyond  all  dreaming's  bound; 
This  orb  of  ours  whereon  man  sits  encrowned 
A  God  and  Devil  —  void  of  any  place 
Where    Life    and    Death    meet    not    in    fierce 

embrace, 

To  what  deep  purpose  thought  has  never  found. 
There  is  no  great  or  small:  this  grain  of  sand 
Its  secret  holds,  as  does  the  shaping  hand 
Which  fast  cements  it  in  the  building's  wall; 
And  this  vain  butterfly,  that  only  can 

In  winged  rapture  hasten  to  its  fall, 
Mysterious  is  as  thy  great  soul,  O  Man. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

MAN'S  HERITAGE 

IMMORTAL  Man,  what  treasure  falls 

to  thee ! — 

The    ages    million-yeared    whose    life- 
blood  still 

Flows  through  the  channels  of  thy  good  and  ill, 
As  will  thine  own  through  those  that  are  to  be; 
The  prisoned  secrets  yearning  to  be  free ; 

The  infinite-sounding  harmonies  that  fill 
All  space  and  being ;  and  that  supremest  Will 
Which  weaves  the  web  of  life's  great  mystery. 
Dig  where  thou  wilt  and  thou  shalt  jewels  find, 
As  will  thy  brother  in  no  less  degree 
Who  searches  centuries  hence  with  deeper  mind; 
For  thou  art  ruled  by  such  divine  decree, 

And  in  the  Eternal's  breast  art  so  enshrined, 
Thy  wealth  can  feel  no  bound's  extremity. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

OUT  OF  THE  SHADOW 

WOULD  not  have  the  world's  regard 
less  eyes 
Rest  on  this  verse  made  consecrate  with 

tears 

For  one  who  in  the  spring-time  of  his  years 
Sank  down  overburdened,  never  more  to  rise; 
But  those  alone  whose  unavailing  cries 

Have  risen  like  mine  for  all  the  heart  endears 
I  would  have  here  to  pause,  and  in  his  bier's 
Deep  shadow  share  my  bosom's  agonies. 
Yet  as  Grief  hands  the  bitter  cup  around, 
And  deeper  grows  the  shade's  intensity, 
Our  souls  may  hear  some  new,  far- falling  sound; 
And  mid  its  throbs  divine  it  then  may  be 

That  Life  will  stream  with  richer  thought,  and 

we 

Deem     Death     a     monarch     with     effulgence 
crowned. 


[     43      ] 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 
POE 

|E  walked  beneath  the  raven's  wing 
A  wayward  child  in  lightless  gloom, 
And  there  his  trancing  songs  did 

sing 

And  weave  his  haunting  tales  of  doom. 

He  drank  from  Beauty's  honey-cup, 

Pressed  to  his  eager  lips  by  Art, 
Until  her  nectar  swallowed  up 

The  very  substance  of  his  heart. 

Upon  her  lines  his  structures  grew, 
In  form  most  cunningly  designed, 

While  demons  that  he  nurtured  slew 
The  peace  and  sweetness  of  his  mind. 

With  hopeless  sighs  and  bitter  tears 
He  filled  his  sad,  remorseful  hours, 

Yet  reared  the  while,  for  all  the  years, 
His  beauty-crowned,  enchanted  towers. 


[     44     ] 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

TO  WALT  WHITMAN 

HOU  roughest-hewn  of  all  the  poet  kind ! 
Not  thine  to  tinkle  rhyme's  melodious 

bell, 

Nor  set  to  music  of  harmonious  swell 
The  thoughts  that  surged  within  thy  shoreless 

mind; 
Not  these  could  Art  to  lightest  durance  bind, 

Nor  sensuous  Beauty  with  her  deepest  spell 
Entice  them  in  her  fair  demesne  to  dwell; 
But  formless,  ruleless  they  as  unconfined. 
1  et,  giant  soul,  thy  loud-resounding  lyre, 

Whose  tones  the  wondering  world  still  leans  to 

hear, 

Thrills  every  spirit  that  would  dare  to  be 
Inflamed  with  that  unique,  immortal  fire, 

Which  made  thee  what  thou  wast  —  the  grandest 

seer 
And  noblest  poet  of  Democracy. 


[     45     ] 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


HOME 


|F  earthly  things  thou  top  of  blessings  — 

Home! 

Safe  refuge  where  the  overburdened  soul 
Lays  down  its  weary  weight  of  toil  and 

care, 

To  softly  fall  into  the  arms  of  rest. 
In  deep  dreams  there  the  frets  of  life  are  hushed, 
Its  turmoils  and  its  woes,  while  the  stopped  ears 
Hear  nought  of  clamor's  unrelenting  noise 
That  roars  tumultuous  in  the  world  without. 
And  there  the  mistress  of  the  blest  abode 
In  sweetest  tyranny  serenely  sways 
Her  silver  sceptre  over  all  the  house, 
Until  each  feverous,  hesitating  pulse, 
Ruled  by  the  music  of  her  heartening  love, 
Beats  to  the  measure  of  melodious  peace. 


VISIONS     AND      OTHER      VERSE 

AFTER  AN   EVENING  WITH 
LONGFELLOW 

OULD  I  but  mount  with  something  of 

thine  ease, 

And  lightly  wing  the  empyreal  air 
The  muses  breathe,   I  would  not  now 

despair 

To  rise  in  praise  of  thee  on  lines  like  these; — 
Now,  when  thy  dulcet,  fine  felicities 

All  freshly  lie  upon  my  soul,  and  wear 
A  bloom  so  richly,  beautifully  fair, 
They  mock  expression's  subtlest  alchemies. 
No  deliration  ever  mars  thy  strain, 

No  puling,  weak  complaining  nor  lament, 
Nor  formless  numbers  hobbling  slow  along; 
But  borne  on  waves  of  music,  sweetly  sane, 
Serenely  passioned,  suavely  eloquent, 
It  glows  with  witching  art  of  noble  song. 


[     47      ] 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


TO  WHITTIER 

i 
OME  verse  there  is  death  cannot  touch 

although 

It  may  not  nest  upon  the  loftiest  height, 
To  spread  its  pinions  in  untiring  flight 
Where  constellations  in  resplendence  glow; 
Nor  yet  by  Fancy  fondly  fellowed  know 
Her  fairy  realms  of  exquisite  delight  ; 
Nor  with  Imagination's  stopless  might 
Range  the  vast  regions  of  our  bliss  and  woe;  — 
For  it  hath  cradled  in  the  human  breast 

Feelings  and  thoughts  with  which  we  would  not 

part; 

And  hath  in  loving,  saving  strength  possessed 
The  power  to  move  the  universal  heart, 
And  so  will  be  by  all  the  muses  blest 
As  long  as  joys  shall  sing,  or  tears1  shall  start. 


TO     WHITTIER 


II 


UCH    verse,    O    Whittier,    thy    muse 

employs : 

For  thou  dost  sing  in  unaffected  lay 
Of  maidens  fair,  of  childhood's  glorious 

day, 

Of  natural  things  unmixed  with  base  alloys; 
Dost  mint  the  gold  that  lies  in  homely  joys, 

And  gently  mov'st  in  such  consummate  way 
The  human  heartstrings  to  melodious  play, 
That  restful  music  drowns  the  world's  mad 

noise. 
New  England  lives  in  thy  delightful  line : 

There  do  her  household  hearths  our  love  con 
strain; 

There  do  her  tales  with  freshened  beauty  shine, 
Her  fields,  her  woods,  her  skies,  her  stormy  main; 
While  over  all  the  Power  we  feel  divine 
Upholds  eternal,  universal  reign. 


[     49     ] 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


POETIC  ART 


HE  cities  vanish;   one  by  one 
The  glories  go  that  glories  won ; 
At  Time's  continuous,  fateful  call 
The  palaces  and  temples  fall; 


While  heroes  do  their  deeds  and  then 
Sink  down  to  earth  as  other  men. 
Yet,  let  the  Poet's  mind  and  heart 
But    touch  them  with  the  wand  of  Art, 
And  lo !   they  rise  and  shine  once  more 
In  greater  splendor  than  before. 


INSIGHT 

One  doubts,  one  fears,  one  calls  on  circumstance, 
And  one  is  blown  by  every  wind  of  chance; 
While  yet  another  looks  into  his  soul, 
And  sails  serenely  to  his  destined  goal. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

REVERIE 

HAT  realm  is  thine,  thou  gentlest  ruler, 

sleep ! 
All  life  obeys  thee,  while  earth's  myriad 

graves 

But  point  to  where  thy  ageless  banner  waves, 
And  where  thou  dost  unbroken  vigil  keep. 
Innumerous  messengers  are  thine,  who  leap 

To  do  thy  bidding — noiseless,   nimble  knaves, 
Who  bring  from  out  thy  many-chambered  caves 
Sweet  dreams  wherein  the  troubled  brain  to  steep. 
And  from  thy  choicest  chamber  steals  thy  child 
Poetic  souls  do  know  as  Reverie; 
'Tis  she  whose  fingers  set  the  spirit  free, 
So  that  from  every  fleshly  hindrance  isled, 

It  may  with  Fancy  roam  the  woodland  wild, 
Or  sail  upon  Imagination's  sea. 


c  51  ] 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 

TO    A    SOILED   AND    BROKEN    VOLUME 
OF  BAYARD  TAYLOR'S  POEMS 

OME,  worthy  waif,  to  my  embrace; 
Let  me  with  gentlest  touch  erase 
All  soilure  from  thy  pretty  face, 
Remove  the  torn  and  faded  dress 
tat  mars  thy  pristine  loveliness, 
And  bid  the  binder  clothe  anew 
Thy  beauteous1  form,  and  there  bestrew, 
With  hand  by  loving  taste  controlled, 
His  daintiest  flowers  of  gleaming  gold. 
Then  shall  I  gladly  house  thee  where 
The  best  of  all  thy  kinsmen  fare, 
And  who  will  give  thee  welcome  room 
Within  the  precints  of  their  home, 
And  where  thine  author  sure  would  say 
Thou  hadst  at  last  not  gone  astray. 
There  shalt  thou  have  such  tender  care 
The  bitter  past  will  be  forgot; 
And  oft  to  thee  shall  I  repair, 
To  thrill  beneath  thy  glowing  thought; 
To  follow  thee  at  leisure  times 
For  art-grown  pearls  in  distant  climes; 


TO   A    SOILED   AND   BROKEN   VOLUME 

To  have  the  sluggish  feelings  stirred 
By  many  a  music-singing  word, 
And  mount  with  thee  on  lyric  wings 
Above  the  touch  of  sordid  things. 
Ah,  then  how  happy  shall  I  be 
At  thought  of  having  rescued  thee ! 


DEFIANCE 

Despair,  I  do  defy  thee  and  despise: 
Though  seamed  my  heart  with  scars, 
Yet  will  I  press  undaunted  toward  the  prize 
That  blazes  mid  the  stars. 


[     53 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 

ENDEAVOR 

I 

[TILL  am  I  tossed  upon  a  troubled  sea, 
Puzzled  and  doubting  how  to  make  my 

way; 

Resultless  day  follows  resultless  day, 
And  even  my  dreams  no  solace  bring  to  me. 
At  Duty's  call,  unheeding  other  plea, 

Have  I  pushed  forward,  scornful  of  delay, 
Not  idly  lazing  in  the  lap  of  play, 
Nor  grieving  over  what  might  never  be. 
And  now,  the  years  seem  shorter  as  they  run, 
Nor  dares  my  life  to  hope  for  many  more, 
Or  should  they  come,  that  they  will  truly  bless. 
The  best  that  lay  within  me  has  been  done; 
And  as  an  end  all  vainly  I  deplore 
Endeavor's  dreary  waste  of  fruitlessness. 


[     54     ] 


ENDEAVOR 


II 


HOU  wavering  soul,  what  note  is  this 

to  sound? 

Dost  prate  of  Duty,  yet  art  satisfied 
With   what   thou    hast   in   scarce   half- 
struggle  tried? 
Dost  beat  thy  wings  against  thy  self-made  bound, 
Forgetful  that  in  Life's  unresting  round 

All  marvellously  wondrous  things  abide 
For  him  who  seeks  and  will  not  be  denied? 
And  that  the  humblest  may  be  jewel-crowned? 
O  blinded  one,  unhood  thy  spirit's  eyes, 

So  they  may  truly  see  the  world  without, 
And  that  still  other  world  which  stirs  within ; 
Then  canst  thou  soar  through  Hope's  enchanting  skies 
To  peaks  undarkened  by  the  clouds  of  Doubt, 
And  where  to  Victory  thou  mayst  be  kin. 


C    55    ] 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 

TO    KEATS 

HOU  art,  O  Keats,  of  all  the  poet  race 
The   Muses'   most  immediate,    darling 

child; 
They  kissed  thee  at  thy  birth  and  fondly 

smiled, 

Foreseeing  what  thy  splendors  would  embrace: 
Enchantments  man  would  never  cease  to  chase, 
And  catch  and  catch  again,  and  be  beguiled, 
Till  filled  with  rapture  he  should  be  so  isled 
Upon  such  sparkling  sea  of  fairy  space. 
Thou  clear-eyed  spirit!     Thou  miracle  of  song! 
Greek  and  Elizabethan  met  in  thee, 
To  shake  thy  soul  with  Beauty's  ecstasy; 
And  though  death  would  not  let  men  hold  thee  long, 
Affection  twines  her  greenest  round  thy  name 
As  loftier  grows  the  column  of  thy  fame. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

TO  SHELLEY 

Bright  seraph  of  the  cloud  and  air, 

Couldst  thou  have  left  thine  eyry  there, 

And  felt  the  earth  beneath  thy  feet 

Till  life  for  thee  was  all  complete, 

Or  had  the  waves  not  swept  thee  down, 

Thou  mightst  have  worn  still  richer  crown ; 

But  why  regret? — thy  lyric  lay 

Still  wings  its  rapturing,  skyey  way, 

While  that  brute  world  which  gave  thee  blows 

Now  on  thy  tomb  Love's  roses  throws. 

REFUGE 

The  winds  of  Grief  were  driving  him 

Upon  the  rocks  despair  had  reared, 
When  in  the  distance,  faint  and  dim, 

The  Star  of  Poesy  appeared; 
And  as  toward  her  his  face  he  turned 

With  hope  and  courage  in  his  breast, 
She  then  with  greater  fulgence  burned, 

To  light  him  to  the  Port  of  Rest. 

[      57      1 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

AT  THE   PRESIDIO   OF  SAN   FRANCISCO 

[HE  rose  and  honeysuckle  intertwine 
Their  fond  arms  here  in  beauty's  own 

sweet  way; 

Here  loveliest  grasses  never  know  decay, 
every  wall  is  eloquent  with  vine; 
Far-reaching  avenues  make  beckoning  sign, 

Where,  as  we  stroll  in  lingering,  glad  delay, 
The  trilling  songster  glorifies  the  sway 
That  gives  to  him  inviolable  shrine. 
And  yet,  within  this  beauty-haunted  place 

War  keeps  his  dreadful  engines  at  command, 
With  scarce  a  smile  upon  his  frowning  face, 
And  ever  ready,  unrelaxing  hand  .  .  . 

We  start  to  see,  when  dreaming  in  these  bowers, 
A  tiger  sleeping  on  a  bed  of  flowers. 


c  58  i 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

NIGHT 

S  oft  of  old,  I  watched  the  sun  leap  o'er 
The  golden  barriers  of  the  farthest  West, 
And  saw  the  stars  on  heaven's  deep  azure 

breast 

In  splendor  blaze  as  never  seen  before; 
And  then  upon  mine  ear  began  to  pour, 

In  waves  innumerous  that  knew  no  rest, 
The  sharp,  sweet  notes  of  myriad  ones  that  blest 
My  inmost  soul  with  more  than  music's  lore : 
Unnoted  these  great  stars  glow  all  the  day, 

Unheard  these  tiny  insects  chirp  their  lay — 
Eclipsed  by  louder  sound,  by  brighter  light. 
Thus  many  a  sweet  and  patient  one  of  earth 

Shines  on,  sings  on,  unmarked  her  priceless  worth 
Till  she  has  glorified  Misfortune's  night. 


[     59 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

TRANSMUTATION 

O  heart,  with  bitter  tears  o'erbrimmed, 
Grief  does  not  sit  alone  with  thee, 
For  Faith  and  Love  with  eyes  undimmed 
With  her  keep  tender  company, 
Where,  if  thou  wilt,  this  woe  of  thine 
May  be  transmuted  to  a  shrine. 

TENNYSON'S  GOOD   FORTUNE 

'F  all  the  poets  never  yet  was  one 
More  blest  by  fortune  than  was  Tenny 
son: 

For  half  a  century  his  pen  so  swayed 
The  realm  of  Poesy  that  all  obeyed, 
And  owned  he  gave  such  jewelled  song-words  birth 
As  could  not  well  be  matched  upon  the  earth. 
His  country  held  him  closely  to  her  breast 
As  one  in  whom  she  was  uniquely  blest, 
While  wife,  and  friends,  and  children,  all  were  his, 
And  spoils  of  wealth  and  noble  dignities. 
He  dreamed  his  dreams  from  clamoring  man  apart, 
His  every  passion  centring  in  his  art, 

[  60  ] 


TENNYSON'S  GOOD  FORTUNE 

And  from  his  garden's  quietude  of  shade 

In  calm  contentment  all  the  world  surveyed, 

Keeping  his  powers  in  such  consummate  bloom 

They  never  seemed  to  wither  or  to  fade. 

And  when  had  come  the  fateful  hour  of  doom, 

Good  fortune  still  was  his :  the  moonbeams  made 

Transfiguring  beauty  of  his  chamber's  gloom; 

The  Master's  music  lingered  on  his  lips 

The  latest  ere  his  spirit  passed  away, 

And  sudden  sunlight  burst  through  cloud's  eclipse 

In  golden  glory  on  his  coffined  clay. 


[     61     ] 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


IN   NOVEMBER 

HE  year  draws  nigh  the  edge  of  death; 

for  see, 

These  dreary  branches  have  already  shed 
Such  myriad  leaves,  they  lie  in  mounds  of 

dead 

At  foot  of  each  sad-hearted  parent  tree. 
Yet,  grim  and  stern  as  human  soul  might  be, 

The  scarred,  gray  sycamores  with  defiant  head 
Like  warriors  stand,  while  in  its  shrunken  bed 
The  languid  stream  flows  on  resignedly. 
Life  is  aweary  and  in  quiet  here 

Would  rest  awhile  her  care-tormented  brain, 
As  dreams  she  of  the  fast-departing  year; 
While  Melancholy,  led  by  Memory's  train, 

With  pensive  step  now  gently  steals  anear, 
To  dew  the  ground  with  sacramental  tear. 


VISIONS     AND      OTHER      VERSE 

THESEUS   AND   ARIADNE 

ITHIN  the  labyrinth's  depths  the  Mino 
taur, 

Slain  by  the  sword  she  gave,  lay  stark 
and  dead, 

And  with  his  finger  following  her  thread 

He  issued  forth  to  see  the  heavens  once  more. 

Then  Theseus  swiftly  from  the  hated  shore 
With  Ariadne  on  his  bosom  fled, 
Still  hearing,  as  toward  Naxos  on  they  sped, 
King  Minos'  cries  above  the  ocean's  roar. 

Deep-nested  in  love's  softest  down  they  lay 

When  she  to  him :    "  Through  me  alone  thy  way 
To  century-sounding  fame  has  now  been  won ; 

And  yet  I  fear; — Oh,  swear  we  shall  not  part!" — 
"By  Aphrodite  do  I  swear,  sweetheart!"  .  .  . 
Then  rose  portentous  cloud  and  hid  the  sun. 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 

ULYSSES  AND   CALYPSO 

| OR  that  they  slew  the  cattle  of  the  Sun 
Ulysses'  comrades  sank  to  death  while 

he, 

Borne  on  the  billows  of  the  friendly  sea, 
Calypso's  lovely  isle  in  safety  won; 
Where  filled  with  soothing  rest  his  days  did  run 
To  murmurous  music's  luring  notes  as  she 
Bound  him  in  coils  of  such  captivity, 
That  but  for  Zeus  his  soul  had  been  undone. 
The  God's  decree  the  enamored  nymph  obeyed, 
And  helped  the  hero  as  his  raft  he  made, 
While  brimmed  her  heart  with  desolation's  tears. 
His  glimmering  sail  she  watched  till  in  the  sea's 

Great  void  'twas  lost,  then  moaned  because  her 

years 
Were  not  as  mortal  as  Penelope's. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


NARCISSUS 


WAY  from  Echo's  plaint  Narcissus  led 
His  steps  where  lay  a  moss-engirdled 

pool, 
And  weaned  stooped  to  taste  its  waters 

cool;  — 

When  down  he  sudden  fell  as  if  struck  dead. 
At  last  he  gazed;  then  tried  to  clasp  the  head 
And  kiss  the  face  so  strangely  beautiful; 
Yet  he  but  marred  the  mirror's  waveless  lull, 
And  wept  to  find  his  radiant  vision  fled. 
No  food  he  sought  nor  sleep;  to  gaze  and  sue, 

Burned  by  the  noonday  sun  and  drenched  with 

dew, 

Were  his  alone  until  his  parting  breath. 
The  nymph  he  scorned  with  kindly  hand  did  strew 
Sweet  grass  and  bloom  upon  his  bed  of  death, 
And  on  the  spot  a  flower  immortal  grew. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


ORESTES 


|HEN  Agamemnon  on  the  wings  of  fame 
From  conquered  Troy  to  Clytemnestra 

flew, 
She  kissed  him  as  -^Egisthus  pierced  him 

through  — 
A  pair  of  devils  in  immortal  shame! 
Orestes  heard,  and  all  his  quivering  frame 

Surged  with  a  wrath  the  Pythoness  so  blew, 
That  with  his  mother's  blood  he  dared  imbrue 
The  hand  till  then  snow-white  of  any  blame. 
Whereat  the  snakes  of  torture  round  his  head 
Still  closelier  clung  as  on  and  on  he  fled 
Before  the  vengeful,  fierce  Eumenides; 
But  when  the  Tauric  Artemis  he  bore 

To  Argos'  land,  Athene's  self  did  seize 

The  raging  Furies,  and  they  scourged  no  more. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

TO   GOETHE 

OD  built  thee  on  the  noblest  plan, 
Thou  universal,  fruitful  man ! 
No  life  there  was  thou  couldst  not  feel, 
No  learning  thou  didst  not  acquire, 

And  these  thine  art  did  so  anneal 

They  glow  as  with  perpetual  fire : 

The  heights  of  hope,  the  vales  of  fears; 

The  agony  of  soul-drawn  tears; 

The  human  heart  in  every  guise; 

The  weak,  the  strong,  the  fool,  the  wise; 

Beauty  in  all  its  good  and  ill; 

Temptation's  snare,  heroic  will; 

Poor,  erring  man  as  on  he  goes 

Through  hates  and  loves,  delights  and  woes ; 

All  these  did  in  thy  passion  throng, 

To  breathe  immortally  in  song. 

Thy  serious  soul  surveyed  the  all, 
Contemning  not  what  seemed  the  small, 
Nor  lost  in  mazes  of  the  vast; 
While  all  thy  years  thou  wisely  wast 
The  conqueror  of  thyself,  who  could 
Dispart  the  evil  from  the  good, 


TO   GOET  HE 

And  calmly  sit  above  the  show 
Of  froth  and  fume  that  raged  below, 
And  with  unique,  compelling  force 
Ordain  for  man  his  proper  course. 
Thy  piercing  vision  saw  the  springs 
That  lie  within  the  heart  of  things, 
And  thy  imperial  voice  shall  sound 
Its  notes  to  earth's  remotest  bound, 
To  point  the  way,  with  good  bestrewn, 
To  Wisdom  seated  on  her  throne. 


L     68     ] 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


ARRIA 

HEAR,  and  shake  not,  that  thou  art 

decreed 

By  thine  own  hand  to  miserably  die  — 
Now,  when  thy  fortunes  blossom  and 

the  eye 

Of  fate  beams  bright  as  with  prophetic  meed; 
And  why  shak'st  thou  in  this  thy  spirit's  need 

When  Death  and  Cassar  stand  relentless  by? 

Arouse  thy  soul  till  thy  defiant  cry 

Proclaims-    once    more    our    matchless    Roman 

breed."— 

"O  wife,  to  close  this  day  my  book  of  years 
Is  unimagined  pain;  this  proffered  steel 
The  horror's  sum  of  horrors  unto  me."  — 
"  Give  me  the  blade,  that  so  thy  griefs  and  fears 

May  drown  in  mine  own  blood.     I  strike  .  .  . 

and  feel 

No  hurt,  my  Paetus  .  .  .  now  the  point's  for 
thee." 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 


PERPETUA 

Y  father,  plead  no  more  ;  —  wouldst  have 

me  wed 

Remorse  in  life,  and  then  in  flames  to  lie, 
When  from  the  blood  of  Caesar's  circus  I 
Can  leap  to  Heaven  to  be  chapleted? 
Has  not  our  holy  Saint  Ignatius  said 

God's  wheat  we  are,  that,  for  his  purpose  high, 
And  in  his  boundless,  love,  should  be  ground  by 
The  teeth  of  monsters  into  Christ's  pure  bread? 
Then  welcome  the  arena's  glorious  ruth  ; 

I  long  to  feel  the  lion's  rending  tooth 
Till  all  my  body  reeks  with  horrors  fell. 
And  yet,  dear  father,  ere  from  thee  I  go, 

It  touches  me  to  think  of  that  great  woe 
Which  will  be  thine  eternally  in  Hell. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

DANTE   AND   BEATRICE 

WORLD-COMPELLING  Dante,  who 

the  sea 

Of  Poesy  so  stirred  from  shore  to  shore, 
That  even  as  yet  its  surging  thunders 

roar 

In  tones  undying  as  eternity; 
With  master  spirit  so  supremely  free 

It  scorned  all  bonds'  and  swept  through  every 

lore, 

On  wisdom's  pinions  at  the  last  to  soar 
To  empyreal  world  of  ecstasy! 
The  crown  of  sorrows  with  its  thorns  was  thine; 
But  in  thy  bosom  blazed  the  fires  divine 
That  lit  thy  track  to  Paradise  from  Hell; 
And  she  who  gendered  their  supernal  light 

Has  starred  forevermore  the  magic  might — 
Disputeless  miracle  —  of  woman's  spell. 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 

EDELWEISS 


O-MORROW  from  Zermatt  we'll  see 

the  grand, 

Far  Theodule  and  soaring  Matterhorn ; 
And  then,  O  joy !  as  if  for  us  just  born, 
In  luring  nook  the  Edelweiss  will  stand."  .  .  . 
The  morrow's  breeze  the  peak  and  glacier  fanned, 
And  fanned  the  form  of  her  that  crushed  and 

torn 

Lay  like  uprooted  lily  pale  and  lorn, 
The  fatal  Edelweiss  within  her  hand. 
Her  body  fouled  with  stains  they  bore  far  up 
From  precipice's  foot  to  church's  arms, 
And  would  have   earthed   it   'neath   memorial 

stone ; 
But  vain  the  offer  of  this  final  cup : 

For  she  who  fled  the  city's  roars  and  harms 
Now  found  that  even  in  death  it  claimed  its  own. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

TO   BALZAC 

ON   READING   HIS   MEMOIR   BY 
MISS  WORMELEY 

NTIL  I  knew  the  story  of  thy  years, 
It  did  not  seem  titanic  power  like  thine 
Could  have  been  found  in  merely  human 

mine, 
Or  could  have  mingled  with  life's  hopes  and 

fears ; 
For  thy  great  spirit  so  sublime  appears 

Among  the  kindred  fellows  of  thy  line, 
That  every  Muse  would  hail  thee  as  divine, 
And  Atropos  for  once  distrust  her  shears. 
'Tis  so  set  down,  yet  strange  I  feel  it  still, 

That  thou  wast  not  the  demi-god  I  deemed, 
But  anxious  toiler  for  thy  daily  bread; 
Thy  bosom  racked  with  many  a  torturing  ill; 

And  who,  like  others,  when  thy  dreams  were 

dreamed, 
Felt  Death's  dark  angel  settle  on  thy  head. 


[     73     ] 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 

NEAR   MIDNIGHT   OF   DECEMBER 
THIRTY-FIRST   1899 

N  retrospective  dream  I  watch  my  fire, 
Erst  bright  with  flame,  to  embers  now 

decline, 
As  thee,  the  youngest  one  of  Time's  long 

line, 

I  see  in  his  unfeeling  arms  expire. 
And  as  thou  sinkest  down,  war's  clamorings  dire 

More  horrent  scream  than  when  life  first  was 

thine, 
While  man  now  drinks  his  brother's  blood  for 

wine 

With  bestial,  unappeasable  desire. 
Thou  seem'st  of  evil  wrought,  but  so  did  they 

Thy  vanished  kin ;  yet  man  still  holds  his  way 
Through  all  the  maze  and  tangle  of  despair; 
Still  Love  uprears  her  palaces  divine; 

No  deed's  to  do  but  finds  some  arm  to  dare, 
And  God  still  lets  his  stars  in  glory  shine. 


[     74     ] 


VISIONS      ATXD      OTHER      VERSE 

ON  RECEIVING  A  BUNCH  OF  HOLY 
GRASS 

ECAUSE   on    festivals   its  leaves   were 

strown 

Before  the  portals  of  the  sacred  fane, 
'Twas  holy  called  with  one  accordant 

strain, 

Till  by  that  reverent  name  'tis  ever  known. 
So  now,  most  worthy  lady  thou  dost  deign, 

As  Easter's  music  through  the  heart  is  blown, 
To  strew  this  grass  before  me  as  mine  own— 
Me,  a  poor  singer,  piping  all  in  vain. 
How  joyed  the  mountain  torrent  where  it  grew ! 
What  opulence  of  golden  hours  it  knew 
Where  Solitude,  unconquered,  reigned  alone ! 
Though  lifeless  quite,  it  still  yields  balmiest  breath, 
As  some  dear  soul,  in  all  the  graces  grown, 
Exhales  divinest  perfumes  even  in  death. 


[     75     ] 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 
VOICES 

|  ROM   out  the   azure's   depths  serenely 

falling 
At  times  I  hear  celestial  voices  calling, 

And  then  in  spirit-flight 
soar  from  murky  Night, 
To  seek  their  presence  in  the  fields  of  Light. 

And  by  their  marvellous  tones  the  air  is  shaken, 
Until  I  feel  my  fearsome  soul  awaken 

To  faiths  that  set  it  free; 

And  calm  as  one  might  be 
I  dare  to  ask,  what  death  can  come  to  me? 


FIVE   SONNETS 
SUGGESTED    BY   SOME    PICTURES 

PAINTED 
BY  WILLIAM    KEITH 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


MORNING 

EEP-BROODING  Night  has  done  its 

worst  and  best, 
And  once  again  we  front  the  new-born 

Day, 

Where  now  the  sickled  moon  with  lessening  ray 
Hangs  low  upon  the  sky's  auroral  breast. 
The  earth,  soft-garmented  in  robes  of  gray, 

Drinks  heaven's  sweet  dew  with  such  delightful 

zest, 

She  fain  would  see  time  held  a  prisoner  lest 
The  sun  should  sweep  her  present  joys  away. 
Home  kindles  now  her  necessary  fires, 

Whose  shafts  of  smoke,  that  gently  pierce  the  air, 
Like  incense  seem  in  worship  of  the  Morn. 
And  as  we  list  to  these  far-sounding  lyres, 

So  great  all  grows,  so  most  divinely  fair, 
The  soul,  fresh-winged,  upsoars  as  if  reborn. 


[     79     ] 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 


II 


BY   THE    ROADSIDE 


ROM  root  to  leaf  each  merry-hearted  tree 
Breathes  the  sweet  air  as  with  divine 

delight, 
And    even    the    clouds,    o'ercomt    by 

beauty's  might, 

But  swell  the  woodland's  deep-drawn  ecstasy ; 
And  yonder  horsemen  jewelled  in  the  light, 
Shout  to  the  sky  in  wantonness  of  glee, 
As  though  for  them  no  future  could  there  be 
Of  mad  despair's  insufferable  night. 
With  weary  feet,  and  heart  sore  charged  with  woe, 
A  woman  sits  the  grass-fringed  road  beside, 
Deep  in  her  soul  the  iron  of  the  years. 
"Ah,  joyous  ones,"  she  sighs,  "  could  ye  but  know 
What  bitter  ruth  will  clip  your  soaring  pride, 
Ye   would   return   and  blend  with   mine   your 
tears!" 


I     80     ] 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER     VERSE 


III 


INTO   THE   MYSTERY 


|HE  palpitating  splendors  of  the  West 
In  mystery  tremble  through  the  wood, 

as  Day 
With    noiseless    footfall    slowly    steals 

away 

To  Night's  star-lighted  palace  and  to  rest. 
Save  where  the  cavaliers  spur  on  with  zest, 
As  if  some  fateful  message  to  convey 
For  leagues  beyond,  all  sounds  of  sad  or  gay 
Lie  stirless  on  the  landscape's  lovely  breast. 
And  should  we  ask  these  horsemen  in  their  pride 
What  word  it  is  they  carry  on  their  ride, 
And  what  dear  heart  to  hear  it  breathed  would 

break, 

They  sure  would  say:  "  Such  word  is  ours  alone; 
To  Dreamland  only  is  that  loved  one  known ; 
Yet  we  shall  ride  forever  for  her  sake." 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


IV 


MEMORIES 


HE  darksome  waves  of  all  thy  fourscore 

years 

Break  on  thy  bosom's  solitary  shore, 
Where  mid  the  wreckage  of  memorial 

lore 

Sorrow  sheds  fast  her  unavailing  tears. 
As  through  the  long-drawn  time  thy  vision  peers, 
What  hopes  pass  by  that  mock  thee  as  of  yore, 
What  fragrant  blossoms,  gone  forevermore, 
Lie  heaped  upon  thy  heart's  uncounted  biers  ! 
Oh,  tell  me  gentle  lady,  from  thy  chair, 

That  holds  thee  now  in   Memory's  thraldom 

chained, 
Have    nought   but    toils    and   pains    been    thy 

increase  ?  — 

Ah,  friend,  not  so:  some  of  my  days  were  fair; 
Much  have  I  lost,  yet  much  have  also  gained, 
And  even  in  Grief's  own  cup  have  tasted  peace. 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 


THE   UNCEASING     ROUND 

|N  centre  of  the  canvas  see  this  pine 
All  stark  in  death,  with  arms  in  vain 

appeal 

For  what  it  nevermore  can  taste  or  feel 
Of  joys  of  earth  or  of  the  heavens  divine. 
Straight  as  in  life  it  stands,  still  bearing  sign 
Of  noble  majesty  and  dauntless  will; 
While  at  its  base  its  elder  brothers  spill 
Their  ashes  where  the  grasses  kiss  and  twine. 
A  great-armed  redwood  centuries  have  blessed 
Uptowers,  while  with  bliss  of  life  possessed 
The  forest  sings  in  grand,  harmonious  tone. 
And  careless  men  pass  by — the  children  they 
Of  other  children  death  has  made  his  own, 
And  who  like  them  will  strive  and  pass  away. 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 

BROWNING 

ERE  was  a  Titan — one  whose  teeming 

thought, 

In  unfamiliar  channels,  broad  and  deep, 
Flowed  grandly  on  in  undimished  sweep ; 
One  who,  by  nature  as  by  learning  taught, 
In  many  a  mine  of  human  passion  wrought, 
With  such  keen  vision,  such  soul-searching  ways, 
As  ne'er  were  blazoned  in  the  sight  of  men 
Save  by  his  own  and  Shakespeare's  sovran  pen; 
One  who  met  truth  with  never-flinching  gaze 
As  on  he  walked  with  Muse  for  loving  guide ; 
Who  held  his  road,  despite  of  blame  or  praise, 
In  noble  scorn  of  intellectual  pride, 
And  yet  who  could  with  any  man  be  free, 
And  in  his  breast  some  thing  of  beauty  see; 
Who  bore   Faith's  ensign,   starred  with  heartsome 

hopes, 

Undaunted  up  Doubt's1  demon-haunted  slopes; 
Who  kept  to  earth  the  while  his  questing  eyes 
Ranged  all  the  reaches  of  the  farthest  skies; 
And  who,  with  fame  that  purples  every  tide, 
Sleeps,  where  'tis  meet  he  should,  by  Chaucer's  side. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


TO    THE    SIERRAS 

HOU  beckonest  to  me  and  I  come  once 

more  ; 

Once  more  to  lay  my  head  upon  thy 
_          breast, 

And  feel  thy  easeful,  all-sufficing  rest 
Body  and  mind  deliciously  steal  o'er. 
My  soul  so  hungers  for  thy  liberal  store, 
That  every  feeling  with  insatiate  zest, 
On  thought's  own  wings  by  fancy's  magic  blest, 
Leaves  far  behind  the  town's  tumultuous  roar, 
Twere  joy  enough  to  have  thee  once  again, 
If  such  possession  were  my  very  last 
This  side  of  death:  to  fly  the  haunts  of  men, 
And  mid  thy  solitudes  outstretching  vast, 

To  be  as  one  with  all  thy  countless  brood, 
Nor  dare  to  question  God's  eternal  good. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


PROOF   OF  GOD 

OST    ask    for   proof   of   God?—  Thou 

mayst  as  well 

Ask  of  the  daisy  on  its  humble  throne 
Whence,  how  or  why  its  loveliness  has 

grown  ; 

Or  pray  the  world-compelling  genius  tell 
The  secret  cunning  of  his  magic  spell  ;  — 

But  when  their  hearts  lie  close  against  thine  own 
Until  their  pulse-beats  thrill  thee  to  the  bone, 
Doubt's  demons  perish  in  their  self-made  hell. 
The  wings  of  Reason  beat  themselves  in  vain 
Against  the  ether  of  a  soundless  air, 
To  fold  at  last  in  logic's  dull  despair. 
Divinely  ordered  is  this  fruitless  lore  : 

For  were  God  proved,   all  mystery  would  be 

plain, 
And  man  himself,  as  man,  could  be  no  more. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER     VERSE 


TO   THE   SONNET 

OUND  in  the  fetters  of  thy  narrow  frame 
What   souls   have   conquered   song! — 

Here  Dante's  woe, 

As  Petrarch's,  swells  to  joy;  here  Angelo 
rreatens  the  glory  of  his  mighty  name; 
'Tis  here  that  Shakespeare  bears  his  breast  to  blame, 
And  here  that  Milton  stoops,  great  strains  to 

blow; 
Here  Wordsworth's  notes  with  rapturing  music 

flow, 
While    Keats    divinely    glows   with    quenchless 

flame. 
Yea,  all  the  rhymsters  of  our  modern  day 

Crowd  round  thy  shrine,  and  beg  thee  to  enring 
Their  brows  with  leaves  of  thy  unwithering  bay; 
Such  crown  is  not  for  me,  but  prithee  fling 
Thy  spell  upon  me,  so  at  least  I  may 
Yet  dream  of  beauties  I  can  never  sing. 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 

THE  LAST  JOURNEY 

IN  MEMORY  OF  PROFESSOR  JOSEPH  LECONTE 
JULY  6,  1901 

i 

OISELESS  as   fall  of  lightest  thistle 
down 
Upon  the   grass,    Death's  vast-winged 

messenger, 
Unseen  of  mortal  eye,  alighted  where 
Yosemite  uprears  her  matchless  walls, 
And  pours  her  cataracts  from  many  an  urn 
In  thunderous  chorus  of  triumphant  song. 

II 

Long  have  I  waited,  Death  had  said  to  him, 
For  one  resplendent  head  that  long  has  lain 
In  peace  of  love  within  the  hearts1  of  men, 
But  until  now  I  dared  not  strike  the  blow; 
For  I  am  not  all  evil,  as  thou  know'st, 
And  when  I  saw  this  man  of  noble  soul, 
In  lovability  beyond  all  words, 
Give  of  his  bounty  each  recurring  year, 
Enriching  every  place  whereon  he  trod, 
And  making  brighter  all  the  air  he  breathed — 

[     88     ] 


THE    LAST    JOURNEY 

A  very  sun  that  conquered  darkest  cloud — 
I  shrank  from  sending  my  resistless  dart, 
That  waits  for  all,  against  a  head  so  crowned. 
But  now,  as  lies  he  in  the  arms  of  her 
He  long  has  loved — the  great  Yosemite ; 
As  on  his  ear  the  thunder  of  her  falls 
Beats,  and  he  lists  with  new-awakened  joy; 
As  his  observant  eye  once  more  beholds 
Her  streams,  her  trees,  her  towers  and  domes, 
With  all  the  myriad  beauties  of  her  floor; 
And  as  he  hears  and  gazes,  his  great  heart 
Bursts  into  raptures  he  cannot  conceal; 
As  now  his  powers  are  ripened  to  their  best, 
And  may  begin  to  wane  in  sight  of  men ; 
'Tis  good  I  do,  not  ill,  to  strike  him  down. 
But  do  thine  office  gently  on  this  man, 
And  let  thy  blow  be  quick  and  merciful. 

ill 

The  messenger  obeyed;  and  he  that  was 
So  nobly  crowned  with  life's  supremest  gems; 
Who  but  a  few  short  hours  before  had  been 
A  very  fountain  whence  outgushed  a  stream 
Of  most  abounding  and  exalted  good, 
Lay  like  a  clod — no  light  within  that  eye 


THE    LAST    JOURNEY 

Which  once  had  challenged  all  the  paths  of  space, 
No  speech  upon  that  tongue  which  once  had  drawn 
The  hearts  of  thousands  with  it's  lightsome  charm. 

IV 

The  mourning  Valley  could  not  keep  his  clay, 
But  round  it  twined  her  garlands  wet  with  tears 
Of  eyes  that  looked  their  lingering  last  on  that 
Which  coffin-housed  upon  the  wain  was  lashed. 
As  sank  the  sun  behind  the  soaring  domes, 
And  all  the  Valley's  length  in  shadow  lay 
Sombrous  and  deep,  she  gave  his  body  up — 
Her  walls  in  saddened  gaze  as  ne'er  before, 
Her  falls  in  muffled  tones  as  ne'er  before, 
Her  river  sounding  dirge  as  ne'er  before. 

V 

The  day's  last  breath  was  drawn,  and  brooding  night, 
With  her  procession  of  innumerous  stars, 
In  new-born  mystery  spread  her  sable  wings, 
As  now  the  dead  and  living,  silent  all 
Save  for  the  grinding  of  the  wheels  that  toiled 
Full  slowly  up  the  long,  steep  mountain-side, 
Passed  through  the  endless  ranks  of  firs  and  pines. 
The  gloom  of  solitude  was  in  their  depths, 

c  90  i 


THE    LAST    JOURNEY 

The  gloom  of  solitude  was  in  our  hearts; 

And  what  strange  spectacle  for  them  to  see! — 

The  coffined  form  of  one  who  had  in  life 

Held  genial  fellowship  with  all  their  kind, 

To  pauseless  pass  in  quiet  of  the  night, 

And  he  to  them  forever  blind  and  mute ; — 

He  that  but  scarce  three  days  before  had  joyed 

To  see  their  needles  dancing  in  the  sun, 

And  had,  in  ecstasy  of  pure  delight, 

His  very  heart's  blood  mingled  with  their  own. 

Still  on  and  on  the  living  and  the  dead, 

As  brighter  and  still  brighter  shone  the  stars, 

Passed  through  the  darkness  of  the  trees  which  seemed 

As  still  as  he  that  lay  forever  dumb. 

The  winds  were  sleeping  in  their  distant  caves 

With  folded  wing;  nor  bird  nor  insect  chirped, 

Nor  whispered  any  leaf.     It  was  as  though 

The  mountain  and  her  brood  in  reverent  hush 

Were  bowed  before  the  loved,  illustrious  dead. 

Then  swam  the  moon  with  more  than  splendor  bright 
Up  from  the  far  horizon's  edge,  and  shot 
The  forest's  gloom  with  radiant,  silvery  threads; 
And  in  that  gloom  all  fairy  forms  were  built, 


THE    LAST    JOURNEY 

And  quick  as  built  dissolved,  and  then  rebuilt, 
Of  palaces  and  domes  and  dim  arcades, 
While  thickening  shadows'  threw  fantastic  shapes 
Across  the  road  where  toiled  the  mournful  wain. 

Still  on  and  on  the  living  and  the  dead, 

As  higher  and  still  higher  soared  the  moon, 

Passed  through  the  forest  silent  still  as  he 

That  in  his  coffin  all  unheeding  lay. 

Yet  we  were  near  him,  and  his  soul  and  ours 

Communed  through  all  the  watches  of  the  night : 

We  thought  of  what  his  work  had  been  to  man; 

What  seeds  of  inspiration  he  had  sown; 

What  love  for  each  created  thing  was  his; 

What  meeds  of  glory  he  had  justly  won; 

How  bathed  his  soul  in  all  the  seas  divine; 

How  quick  his  eye  to  find  the  fair  and  good, 

How  slow  to  see  the  ugly  and  the  bad; 

And  then  we  thought  of  that  poor  fool  who  asked, 

"  Is  life  worth  living?" 

Paler  grew  the  moon 
As  on  and  on  the  living  and  the  dead 
Still  passed,  the  grieving  forest  left  behind 
Forevermore  by  him  that  voiceless  lay. 

[  92  ] 


THE    LAST    JOURNEY 

And  now  the  Dawn,  the  sweet,  mysterious  Dawn, 
Showed  her  face  dimly  o'er  the  distant  peaks, 
Then  with  a  clearer  glow  and  brighter  smile, 
Till  drowned  and  lost  in  the  absorbent  beams 
Of  that  almighty  Sun  which  rules  us  all. 


NOW 


H,  do  not  wait  till  in  the  earth  I  lie 
Before  thou  givest  me  my  rightful  meed ; 
Oh,  do  not  now  in  coldness  pass  me  by, 
And  then  cry  praises  which  I   cannot 

heed. 

If  I  have  helped  thee  on  thy  weary  way, 
Or  lightened  in  the  least  thy  burden's  weight, 
Haste  writh  love's  tokens  ere  another  day 
Shall  pierce  thee  with  the  fatal  words,  "  Too  late." 
The  present  moment  is  thy  time  to  live : 
The  Past  is  gone,  the  Future  may  not  be; 
If  thou  hast  treasure  of  thy  heart  to  give 
To  hungry  souls,  bestow  it  speedily; — 

For  sweet  Love's  sake,  let  not  to-morrow's  sun 
Tempt  thee  to  wait  before  thou  see  it  done. 


[     93     ] 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 

WITH  THE  LARK 

Ah,  mark 

That  Meadow  Lark, 
With  note  so  silvery  sweet, 
Skimming  the  golden  sea  of  wheat 
As  blithesome  Dawn,  in  rosy-hued  array, 
Shakes  out  the  banner  of  the  new-born  day. 
Still  on  he  goes  with  rapturous  glee, 
A  floating  fount  of  melody. 
Oh,  that  my  heart  like  his  could  beat 

In  thoughtless  joy  complete; 
That  under  this  balm-breathing  sky, 

Without  one  question  why, 
My  soul  in  ravishment  might  rest 
On  Beauty's  radiant  breast. 


[     94     ] 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

WITH    THE    EAGLE 

His  eye 

Sweeps  all  the  sky, 
As  hard  he  grips  the  rock. 
Storm's  ice-clad  brood  that  round  him  flock 
But  blow  the  fires  of  his  undaunted  breast, 
And  forth  he  fares  in  ecstasy  of  quest. 
Still  up  he  goes,  to  proudly  fling 
His  own  against  the  thunder's  wing. 
O  Eagle  of  the  mighty  heart, 

Give  me  of  what  thou  art: 
Breed  in  my  soul  thy  lofty  air, 

That  it  may  nobly  dare, 
And  with  unconquerable  will 
Face  every  darkest  ill. 


[     95     ] 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


ATTAINMENT 


E  sigh  for  things  we  scarce  may  hope  to 

gain, 
And  which,  if  all  our  own,  would  give 

no  peace; 

We  vainly  toil  and  struggle  to  release 
To  knowledge   nature's   secrets;    we   complain 
That  'tis  not  given  us  to  break  some  chain, 

To  scale  some  peak,  to  win  some  golden  fleece, 
To  do  some  mighty  deed  whose  light  shall  cease 
Only  when  moons  no  longer  wax  and  wane. 
'Tis  thus  we  empty  all  the  springs  of  life, 
To  lose  the  blessing  at  our  very  hand: 
For  Faith  and  Love,  with  glory  as  of  sun, 
Illume  the  path  to  Peace  through  every  strife; 
No  work  is  futile  that  is  nobly  planned; 
No  deed  is  little  if  but  greatly  done. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


CONCENTRATION 


ARK    how    the    florist's    cunning    hand 

compels 

That  weed  unique,  the  strange  chrysan 
themum, 

To  crown  one  lonely  stalk  whose  blossomed  sum 
To  giant  size  and  gorgeous  beauty  swells — 
The  forces  pulsing  in  its  myriad  cells 

Combining,  as  with  certainty  of  doom, 
To  build  the  structure  of  a  single  bloom, 
Wherein  the  plant  its  dazzling  triumph  tells1. 
So  shouldst  thou  have  the  will,  O  struggling  soul, 
To  hold  thy  thoughts  and  actions  to  the  pole 
Of  one  predominant,  exclusive  aim; 
Then  may  thy  stalk  a  wondrous  blossom  bear, 

Which  shall  for  thee  achievement's  glory  wear, 
And  be  to  others  as  a  sign  of  flame. 


[     97     ] 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 

SUFFICIENCY 

ET  vulgar  Malice  work  its  venomed  will 
Against  the  heart  that  would  as  steel 

have  stood 
To  shield  the  thing  which  strikes  it;  let 

the  brood 

Of  Envy  swarm  like  bees  a-hiving,  and  distil 
Poisons  more  sure  than  those  of  Borgian  skill; 
Let  Friendship  wither,  and  a  common  good 
No  more  be  nourished  by  her  nectared  food; 
And  even  dear  Love  insanely  stab  and  kill. 
Let  all  this  be,  with  ills  as  yet  unguessed ; 

And  still,  thou  shalt  as  ocean  wind  be  free, 
If  bravely  thou  dost  seek  thy  strength  and  rest 
Within  thyself,  bending  compliant  knee 

To  Conscience  only,  and  in  peace  possessed 
Of  that  all-crowning  grace — Humility. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

ENDURE  THOU  FALTERING  SOUL 

NDURE,     thou     faltering    soul,     thou 

shouldst  endure: 
Though  thou  hast  toiled  and  served  un- 

blest  of  gain; 
Though    clamors    mock    thy    peace;     though 

fortune  rain 

Deep-wounding  blows  on  thee,  past  hope  of  cure; 
Though  hearts  grow  cold,  while  griefs  have  made 

thee  poor 

In  all  save  tears,  till  cumulative  pain 
Dare  proffer  ease  with  death's  too-tempting  bane, 
E'en  then,  despairing  soul,  thou  must  endure. 
For  lo,  behold !   all  fellows  are  thy  kin 
From  vastest  sun  to  tiniest  atomy; 
Yea,  all  that  was,  and  is,  and  shall  be,  in 
The  mystery-breathing,  great  immensity, 

Where    thou    art    challenged    for    thy    needed 

part — 
Then  forward,  with  fresh  courage  in  thy  heart! 


[     99     ] 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 

CONSECRATION 

OULDST    thou    make    happiness    thy 

life's  fond  aim? 
Wouldst  walk  self-satisfied  those  paths 

alone 
Where    fortune's   perfume-freighted   gales   are 

blown  ? 

Or  toil  for  men  to  adulate  thy  name? 
Wouldst  madly  seek  the  things  by  pleasure  strown, 
Unheeding  all  their  emptiness  and  shame  ? 
Or  dare  the  fabric  of  thy  soul  to  maim, 
Could  lucre's  millions  only  be  thine  own? 
If  yea,  oh,  let  that  angel  one  austere, 

Called  Consecration,  lead  thy  wandering  feet 
Where  blessedness  may  evermore  be  thine : 
Christ's  gift  she  is — to  man  so  wondrous  dear 
In  service  by  her  spirit  made  complete, 
That  Peace  is  hers  eternally  divine. 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

COMPENSATION 

[LLIMITABLY  vast  the  ocean  rolls 
Before  me  as  its  wreck-strewn  shore  I 

tread, 
And  in  its  depths  I  view  the  unnumbered 

dead 

Who  stare  for  aye  at  unaccomplished  goals. 
So,  round  the  earth  my  sorrowing  sight  controls 

The  sea  of  life  with  waves  from  slaughter  red, 
Which  heave  forevermore  above  the  bed 
Where  lie  the  hopes  and  aims  of  myriad  souls. 
Yet  in  that  ocean's  breast  the  pulses  beat 

Which  send  rich  blood  through  every  country's 

veins, 

To  serve  the  good  whatever  may  befall; 
And  in  this  sea  Joy  still  the  heart  constrains; 

Here  Duty's  jewels  lie ;  and  here  Love's  seat, 
Divine  as  that  which  broodeth  over  all. 


[       101       ] 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

BEATITUDE 

HRICE  blest  is  he,  who,  when  Death 

comes 
To  bear  him  off  from  all  the  dreams  of 

earth, 

Can  look  serenely  in  his  awful  face, 
And  hear  the  summons  with  complacent  smile; 
Who,  looking  back  on  his  memorial  years, 
Can  see  the  trees  of  undeclining  green 
Rich  with  the  golden  fruitage  of  his  deeds, 
That  hate  and  envy  would  no  longer  touch ; 
And  who,  with  blessings  on  the  ones  he  loved, 
And  those  who  loved  him  in  his  worldly  walks 
Where  he  dispensed  the  goodness  of  his  heart, 
Can  speak  his  last  farewell  without  a  sigh, 
And  fall  asleep  as  some  outwearied  child 
In  soothing  peace  upon  its  mother's  breast. 


[      102     ] 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 


MY    MUSE 


|F  that  my  Muse  can  never  hope  to  soar 
Above    the    summits    where    unwasting 

snows 
Are  fellows  of  the  stars;  —  if  that  she 

knows 

No  swelling  note  of  forest,  sea,  or  shore; — 
If  e'en  no  streamlet  of  melodious  lore 

The  tiniest  craft  of  hers  divinely  shows; — 
Or  not  for  her  the  lightest  breeze  that  blows 
In  voiceful  harmony  Parnassus  o'er; — 
Yet  her  dear  self  I  could  not  think  to  chide, 

Nor  deem  her  less  than  some  anointed  saint 
Who  guards  my  soul :  sufficient  unto  me 
If  in  my  deepest  being  she  abide, 

To  hold  my  wandering  thoughts  in  sweet  con 
straint, 
And  all  that's  noblest  give  me  sight  to  see. 


[  103 


VISIONS     AND     OTHER     VERSE 

SCORN   NOT  THE   SINGER 

CORN  not  the  singer  though  his  tremu 
lous  lay 

Ring  not  along  the  arches  of  the  sky, 
Content  the  daisy's  lowly  sweets  to  try 
As  o'er  the  mead  it  wings  its  modest  way; 
For  nectar-laden  it  may  chance  to  stray 

Near  some  lone  heart  that  beats  to  hopeless  cry, 
And  yielding  sweetness  as  it  passes  by 
Give  strength  to  struggle  for  another  day. 
O  Poesy,  thou  mightiest  of  the  Nine, 

Now  more  than  ever  do  we  need  the  aid 
Of  e'en  the  humblest  votary  of  thine; 
Now  when,  as  old  ideals  begin  to  fade, 

In  stress  of  doubt  we  question  the  Divine, 
And  mid  its  splendors  dare  to  be  afraid. 


[      104     ] 


VISIONS      AND      OTHER      VERSE 

DREAM 

T  may  be  that  in  some  auspicious  hour, 
When  all  life's  currents  run  serenely  free, 
A  voice  will  come  from  Dreamland  unto 

me 

Upborne  on  music  of  celestial  power. 
Then  in  the  garden  of  my  heart  some  flower 
May  burst  to  bloom  in  sudden  ecstasy, 
And  with  delightful,  deathless  fragrancy 
Add  mite  of  glory  to  the  Poet's  dower. 
O  soul,  thou  feedest  on  the  husks  of  hope, 

And  starvest  while  the  things  within  thy  scope 
Lie  all  before  thee  in  their  bounty  strown. 
And  still,  ah,  let  me  for  at  least  to-day 
Enjoy  the  vision  ere  it  melt  away, 
To  be  with  other  dreams  forever  flown. 


VISIONS     AND      OTHER     VERSE 


WHITHER 


H,  my  songs  beloved, 
Whither  do  ye  go? — 
O  beloved  Poet, 
That  we  cannot  know. 


Who  can  tell  what  roses 
Will  to-morrow  bloom? 
Or  what  wings  be  folded 
In  relentless  gloom? 

We  abide  the  future, 
As  the  greatest  must — 
Sure  to  find  the  laurel 
Or  be  less  than  dust. 


[      106     ] 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 


80   1915 


DEC  12  1965  6  ft 


REC'ti 


LOAN  DEPT, 


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150296 

Taylor.  T239 

visions  and  other       v 
verses. 

Jan. 50*15.    Mason.  J '  ..qp  it 


-> 


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